


Spin Again

by iphianassa



Category: Fire and Hemlock - Diana Wynne Jones
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 17:38:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5465132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iphianassa/pseuds/iphianassa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the end. In order to leave NOWHERE, Polly has find a way to return to NOW-HERE</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spin Again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ovely](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ovely/gifts).



**I. NOWHERE**

After the end, Polly had to remind herself to breathe. At first it was all she could do, _breathe, breathe, breathe...._ then she remembered Tom and her breathing stopped. Her mind screamed out in panic and she gasped for air. 

“Tom!” she thought she screamed aloud, but no words came out.

In her mind she re-lived the shock on Tom’s face as she screamed, “I never want to see you again!” and felt the horse hit them, over and over and over again.

She was stuck in the dead end of nowhere and all that was left was despair.

**II. HERE-NOW**

Granny had been welcoming when Polly had shown up, wet and with the quartet and Leslie trailing her like ducklings. Granny hugged Polly fiercely, which surprised Polly, and her voice cracked when she told her, “I didn’t know if I’d see you again”. 

“I wasn’t sure either,” Polly’s voice was raw and her throat burned.

Mintchoc wound round her feet, purring, which made Polly feel somewhat better.

Polly looked over to see the quartet in the midst of gathering themselves together, as though shaking off a bad dream along with the wet from the rain. With a sudden stab of panic, Polly realized that Tom was not among them, and she ran back outside to see his tall form loping away in the rain. She tried to run after him, hesitated, and started to run again, but Granny stopped her.

“It’s not safe,” she said, looking at Polly with genuine sympathy. “Let him go, it’s best for everyone that way".

Polly watched Tom walk away, alone, and felt the last flicker of hope leave her.

**III. WHERE-NOW**

“What happened?” Fiona asked, gaping wide-eyed at Polly, who had just trudged into the door of their flat. 

“I lost him,” Polly said flatly, and it was sort of the truth. Despair welled up in her stomach and she tried to shake away the tears that followed, but ended up sobbing in Fiona’s arms.

“The only way to win was to lose, don’t you see?” she asked Fiona. 

Fiona sighed and pushed Polly into a chair. “Have a cup of tea, then,” she said, bustling over to the kettle.

After Fiona had fed her chocolate biscuits to go along with the tea, Polly found that she was too tired to sit up. She collapsed into her bed, but sleep would not come to her. There was a persistent nagging in her head, insisting that this could not be the end. She pushed the pillow over her ears but the echo of Tom’s voice remained.

 _“I always wanted to keep seeing you,”_ he had told her.

She sat straight up in bed as she realized: it was just like the vases at Hunsdon House. They’d started at Now-Here, gone on to Where-Now, and arrived at Nowhere. There was nothing to do but-- 

“I have to spin back to where we started!” 

She jumped from her bed, nearly spilling the tea Fiona had insisted on putting by the side of her bed.

“Fiona! She called. “Where’s the bus timetable? I’m going to Middleton!”

She could hear Fiona sigh from her room as she plodded out with the timetable in her hands.

“I’ll tell you what, Poll, I’m looking forward to the day you stop making such dramatic announcements,” she said, but her mouth was quirked in a knowing smile, “At least you’ve finally given Seb the push, though!”

“Thanks, Fi,” Polly said, kissing her on the cheek. “I hope this will be the last time!” and she rushed out the door to make the last bus back to Middleton.

**IV: NOW-HERE**

The sketch of an idea Polly had had in Oxford had grown into a full-blown plan by the time she reached Middleton. Laurel lived in Nowhere, Polly knew, but she had no power in Here-Now. Here-Now was the dimension she and Tom needed to reach. Perhaps they had already reached it? She was not sure if she needed to actually move the vases, but she was overcome strongly by superstition and it felt like the final task. A hero’s final journey.

Now that she no longer had her opal necklace, she held tightly onto her collar, just as she and Nina had done the first time they had stumbled onto Hunsdon’s lawns. She looked around nervously, afraid to see any signs of movement.

Why had she come back here? _How_ had she come back here? She had to fight her instinct to run away, and kept her hands firmly on her collar. She took another nervous look around, but the lawn and house looked serene and empty. As though they had somehow lost their power. Just as Polly felt some of her confidence returning, she stopped suddenly, overtaken by fear. There was a figure, sitting by the vases. Her hands, still clutched tightly to her collar, tingled, and she might have turned away, had she been able to move. But the figure turned to look at her, and she realized it was Tom, and suddenly she was running toward him. She reached him after only a few strides, but stopped before touching him, afraid of ruining everything when they were so close to the end.

Tom smiled demurely at her, one hand on the left vase, the other gesturing to the right vase.

“Shall we turn them together, then?” he asked. He did not seem surprised to see her, and Polly had never experienced such a rush of emotions all at the same time. Without bothering to answer, she pushed at her vase and saw that next to her, Tom was doing the same. 

After what felt like an eternity, the vases were turned to read “HERE-NOW”

“I think we reached it earlier,” Tom said. “But I had to be sure”.

“Me too,” said Polly, and she felt like crying. “Oh Tom, what do we do now?”

“I hope you’ll forgive the cliche, he grinned, “but I think we live happily ever after”.

“Sentimental drivel,” answered Polly, smiling, in the second before his mouth met hers.

**Author's Note:**

> Some of this work is inspired by the analysis of the book written by LJ/DW user "rushthatspeaks". You can find it [here](http://rushthatspeaks.dreamwidth.org/401546.html).


End file.
